Barbarism to Decadence.

((The chapter title is from Lady Windermere's Fan, by Oscar Wilde. Yes, I imagine all the titles will come from Oscar Wilde quotes. I adore him, and he suits the story.))

Vance lifted his head from his notes at the sound of a knock on his door and glanced to the clock on his desk, arching a brow as he realized he had only an hour before his first class started and he hadn't had breakfast, yet. He stood and moved around to open the door into his new office, blinking at the sight of it's former occupant standing on the other side.

"Professor Snape, please...come in." He stepped back and opened the door wide to let the dark-cloaked man inside. A smile threatened as he suddenly realized who the man reminded him of, and he had to suppress a chuckle.

"Are you going to tell me why you're grinning at me, Professor Price?" Snape's voice was sharp, and faintly wary, as if he assumed the answer was somehow disparaging. Trouble was, he might think it so.

"I might someday, Professor Snape, but I think if I did just now, you'd be offended." Vance answered with a wider grin and closed the door, walking over to sit in one of the comfortable, squashy chairs that sat facing his desk. He peered up at Snape with that smile, lounging in a manner that made the Potions Master frown darkly.

"As long as you don't plan to greet me with that annoying expression every time we meet, then I don't care what caused it. I simply came to tell you that I am willing to aid you in your lesson plans, up to a point. My life is not at your disposal, so do not expect me to be at your beck and call. I assume you have some proficiency in the subject, else the Headmaster would not have appointed you?"

The quirk of one dark brow was all that was needed to let Vance know the man had his doubts, and he couldn't help but grin even more broadly, rather enjoying the way Snape's scowl deepened in response.

"Some, yes. I have no illusions that my skill is anywhere near as great as yours, of course, but I suppose with a little help, I can muddle through." He sighed dramatically and let his head fall back against the chair, giving into the urge to play up the part by pressing the back of his hand to his forehead. Really, was there ever a man more made for teasing than Severus Snape?

Snape snorted and scowled even more fiercely, forcing him to swallow the laugh that wanted to bubble up in answer, because damned if the man's surliness wasn't adorable. "You may think that the education of young wizards and witches is something in which to find amusement, but I take it very seriously, Professor Price. I'll not hesitate to advise Albus to sack you if I feel it is necessary."

"Vance, please, Professor Snape. And I assure you that I am very serious about my new position. Would you care for some coffee? I fear I will never get used to drinking tea all the time." Vance stood and walked over to his coffee pot, glancing back and bursting into laughter at the puffed-up look on Snape's face.

"What's so funny?" Snape's black eyes narrowed as he crossed his arms over his chest, lips pressed into a hard, thin line. Vance turned and refused to answer a moment, instead letting his shining gold eyes roam the lean, impressive figure that the man cut. Did he not realize how tempting he made himself by being so all-fired dour and stuffy?

"Well?" Snape shifted slightly and his expression became wary as he eyed this young professor, feeling vaguely as if the man were trying to peer through his robes. Vance shrugged and beamed, winking at the sour-puss, swiveling on the ball of one foot to pour himself a cup of coffee.

"That expression on your face at the suggestion of coffee. You're really far too cute, Severus. Can I call you Severus?" He glanced over his shoulder, having to bite his lower lip not to laugh again at the shocked expression on Snape's suddenly red face. The man seemed to have been caught speechless, and he simply stared at him for a moment before turning and sweeping from the room with a billow of black.

Only after the door had slammed did Vance allow himself the laughter that was fighting for freedom, carrying his cuppa to his desk and humming a bit. Really, there was nothing like a bit of flirting to start the day out right. Especially flirting with a man like Severus Snape.

------

"Insufferable, disrespectful, American git!" Snape growled to himself as he paced around his classroom, waiting for his first class and stewing over the meeting with the new Potions professor.

Imagine! Calling him cute and grinning at him, and that annoying way he sprawled out as if he were some pampered royal who had never experienced anything more traumatizing than a broken nail. He was utterly intolerable! How on earth did Dumbledore expect the two of them to work together? The man hadn't even been involved in the wizarding world for seventeen years, and he thinks he can honestly teach potions? Feh!

He grunted, forcing all thought of the boorish new teacher from his mind, and moved to his desk, needing to check a few of his notes on his first lesson before the class arrived.

------

He sat on the edge of his desk, dressed in a pair of jeans and a white button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, his deep blue robes discarded in his desk chair. He could tell that some of the students questioned his attire, but it was how he'd dressed for the last seventeen years and he wasn't about to change now. Unless Albus requested it, of course.

"Oscar Wilde once said that 'Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth.' The potion we are brewing today is designed to put that true person on display in the manner of a mask. I invented it myself, and have named it the Soul's Face. When drunk, the potion reveals to all the true state of one's soul. Allow me to demonstrate."

He slipped a vial of cloudy lilac liquid from his shirt pocket and showed it to the class, then removed the stopper and gulped it down. The taste of dew and honey burst within his mouth and flowed warm down his throat, and he could feel the odd, giddy tingling that the potion spread through his body. He watched the students, a faint smile curling his lips as he heard gasps and saw their eyes widen.

"As you can see, this potion is very powerful and if placed in the wrong hands, would be even more devastating than Veritaserum. There is no cheating the Soul's Face, for one can not alter the state of their soul. Were I evil, you would see it clearly in the twisting, bestial cast that would be painted across my features. Were I miserly, my eyes would narrow, my face pinch and it would become apparent to all who looked upon me. The effects of the potion last for..."

He paused and glanced at his wrist watch, chuckling as it ticked off and he felt the giddiness fade within him, and heard the disappointed sighs.

"A full minute, for the amount that I imbibed, of course. If one drinks more, the effect lasts longer. The ingredients and instructions have been placed on your desks, feel free to ask any questions."

He glanced over as an arm immediately shot into the air and arched a brow at the eager face of Hermione Granger. "Yes, Miss Granger?"

She flushed and looked down, seeming to swallow before looking back up to ask softly. "Sir, what did the changes to your face indicate?"

Vance chuckled and stood, straightening as he brushed a hand through his hair, eyes twinkling. "You saw my eyes flash and dance with light, my face flush and my smile widen. I literally became the very personification of merriment, did I not, Miss Granger?"

She nodded slightly, shooting glances to the other students as if unsure of herself, though that did not at all jibe with what he'd learned of her from the other teachers and the Headmaster.

"Well, there you are then. My soul is filled with laughter and light, whole and healthy, carefree."

Her brows furrowed and she peered down at her hands before lifting her gaze once more to ask firmly. "Does that mean you've never had any troubles?"

He shook his head, moving around to sprawl in the chair behind his desk, lifting his feet to rest on one corner as he spoke.

"Not at all. This potion doesn't show one the history of the drinker, merely the state of their soul. You can endure very heavy burdens, struggle through immense pain and yet remain happy in your soul. Likewise, you can live a life of leisure without nary a trouble and bear a soul filled with fear and sorrow. The soul is greatly influenced by one's choices. I choose not to let my problems linger and fester in my soul, I deal with them, grieve and then shake loose the chains that life tries to cast over me."

He paused, glancing around the room to see if the other students had understood, then looked back to Hermione, smiling when he noted her nod of understanding. "Very well, go ahead and get started class. I don't expect you to finish, but you should be able to at least make it halfway through. Good luck."

------

"Wonder what Voldemort would look like if you made him drink some of this stuff?" Ron muttered as he and Harry struggled with chopping up the ingredients for the potion.

"Probably no different. He already looks like the crazy, evil bastard he is, doesn't he?" Harry whispered back as he dropped in the shredded sunflower petals. "The person I'd really like to give it to is Malfoy. Maybe it would give me a hint as to what the bloody hell he's up to this year."

Hermione shot them a glare and huffed, reaching over to stop Ron from pouring in the pear blossom nectar. "That goes in after the turnip greens, Ron. And Harry, really! I wish you would stop obsessing about what Draco Malfoy is doing and focus on your schoolwork. You remember what Dumbledore said."

He grunted and set about crushing the tangy, green leaves that went in next, muttering under his breath. "Yeah, Yeah. If I don't keep up, he won't let me keep my meeting with him next week. Really, Hermione, it's the first class of the first day, would you relax?"

He was saved her inevitable retort when suddenly Neville's potion boiled over and a rank odor rose into the air as it scalded. She merely shot Harry another firm look before turning to help Neville, and Harry added in the crushed greens, wondering if he could rush and finish the potion, then nick a bit to slip into Malfoy's pumpkin juice.